Fire Hazard
by CreativeLiterature
Summary: Who knew she was so hot? During an emergency evacuation of Elias-Clark, Emily struggles to accommodate Miranda when she refuses to cooperate with protocol.


"Emily!" called Miranda from deep within the depths of her office.

Andrea leapt up from her desk, notepad ready to transcribe the myriad of requests Miranda demanded of her that morning.

"I'd like my lunch." said Miranda, not looking up from her laptop.

"Yes, Miranda." Andrea turned on her heel and dialed the number for the restaurant. She placed the order and shrugged on her coat before leaving the office.

Silence. The real Emily was alone in the office with Miranda.

"Allison," called Miranda, not a minute later. Emily perked up. "Get Mr Tomlinson on the phone for - "

Before she could finish, a piercing shriek filled the room. The fire alarm had sounded. Everyone in their offices began rising from their desks or from between wire hangers packed with clothes, dutifully heading towards the emergency exit. Emily barely had time to fetch her cell phone and handbag from beside her swivel chair, ears ringing from the shrill alarm when she heard Miranda call out, deliberately,

"Emily?" her voice was high-pitched but clear. "What is that awful racket?"

"It's the fire alarm, Miranda," said Emily, rushing from her desk to approach Miranda's office. "We're being evacuated."

"Call the building manager and tell him this disruption is uhn-acceptable. I expect you to inform the staff that this does not constitute an early morning absence."

Hurriedly, Emily returned to her desk and scanned the multi-page contact list on her computer while she nestled the phone in the crook of her shoulder, waiting for the dial tone to click. No answer. Everyone was descending the fire escape stairs by now.

"Emily!" called Miranda, this time louder. "This is no way to conduct business!"

Emily finally managed to contact Eduardo at reception, who was ushering everybody to a safe point and by some miracle had been near enough to his desk to answer the call.

"You gotta come down," he said, in response to Emily's measured tone explaining that Miranda wouldn't budge. "No exceptions!"

This gave Emily an idea, dialing the cell phone number of Irv Ravitz, Elias-Clarke's CEO.

"Mr. Ravitz, it's Emily, Miranda's assistant - "

"Emily?" he sounded confused and she could hear the racket blaring on his end, too. "Where's Miranda? Have you left the building yet?"

"She's, uh - " Emily held her hand over the phone and straightened immediately as Miranda marched into view, one hand on her hip, gazing down from her perch.

"I do not uhn-der-stand what is taking you so long," she snarled, glancing up to the ceiling, where the fire alarm continued to blare shrilly. "Tell the building manager - "

"It's Mr. Ravitz, Miranda," Emily stood and handed the phone to Miranda, which she took with a fury. "He'd like to speak with you."

Emily sat upon her chair and watched as Miranda turned away, lips pursed and chin down. Finally, she mumbled something incoherent and placed the receiver on the desk with a bang.

"I'd like my coat," said Miranda, before walking out of the anteroom. Emily hurried to follow, carrying the fur which weighed just as much as she did, struggling on her stilettos to keep up. They passed Sophy's abandoned reception desk, where Miranda waited for Emily to open the glass doors and accepted the coat without a word.

"Miranda, this isn't the way to - "

"We're not taking the stairs," she replied, marching on her heels towards the bank of subdued elevators, all of which flashed 'not in service' on their electronic displays.

Miranda stood silently, retrieving her planner which was bound with a Hermes scarf and began perusing, while Emily, crazed in a fit of madness, pressed the elevator button and hoped to God this was just a drill.

"They've shut down the elevators," said Emily, gathering her courage. "It's safer to take the stairs, Miranda."

Miranda glanced up at the elevator which refused to arrive, sighed in consternation and began winding the Hermes scarf around her planner, slowly and deliberately with what seemed like measured patience. Miranda turned on her heel and strode back through the reception area - Emily barely keeping up - down a corridor and to the ajar door which marked the emergency exit. Upon further inspection, there were several flights of stairs leading down the stories. Miranda stood silent on the periphery, muscles taut and tense.

"I'll be needing a scarf." Emily paused, quite dumbfounded at the ludicrosity of the situation until Miranda turned on her with a fury. "Now, Emily."

_Are you kidding me!?_

Emily moved past Miranda with as much grace as she could muster, breaking one of her heels in her haste to reach the cupboard which held boxes of Hermes scarves she had ordered months before. She tore the lid off one of the boxes and took the silky material in her hands as she raced back, hobbling on her heel and handing Miranda the scarf with as much patience as she could manage while her eardrums pounded.

Miranda descended the stairs with Emily in tow, who kicked off her heels and followed barefoot. More surprising than Emily's lack of footwear, though, was that Miranda was gripping the handrail with the Hermes scarf acting as a barrier between her slim, manicured hand and the clinical white banister which so many unwashed, pedestrian hands had touched. They continued in this way until they reached the bottom landing, where Emily collected her bearings and Miranda discarded the slightly dusty Hermes scarf in a trash bin before emerging into the lobby.

Police and firemen were wrangling with the bank of elevators, while Eduardo and Mickey were trying to talk calmly to the frenzied bankers who shared an elevator bank in the building and were riotous in their insistence to get back to work. They were just as committed to return to their desks as Miranda, both of whom believed their absence meant a loss of money by the second.

Across the room, Andrea burst through the rotating doors, a monogrammed tote bag swinging from her arm containing Miranda's lunch as she saw the ruckus spread out before her.

"What's - "

Miranda stood erect in her posture, but a sheen of glow covered her forehead. She surveyed the crowd with ill-disguised distaste, where those who met her gaze quickly glanced away in fear and ducked out of sight.

"Where is Mr Ravitz?" asked Miranda, sounding out of breath but not looking it. "I have no time for this - "

"Miranda!" beamed Irv, a squat man wearing a tailored suit who approached and genially appraised the crowd at large. His brow had a thin line of perspiration across it. "It would seem someone on the lower floors triggered the fire alarm by mistake."

"Mistake?" chimed in Emily and Andrea in unison.

"They've silenced the alarm but it'll take a few minutes to get the elevators up and running again." He looked positively overjoyed at the commotion which had brought such camaraderie to his otherwise dull working day. "Shall we?"

The Elias-Clark employees parted when they saw Irv approach, but they clambered into separate, scurrying groups when Miranda followed him, beckoning for her assistants to follow her. While the elevators were being prised open and maintenance men walked to and fro, Irv called out,

"Come on, Miranda! Nothing like a little exercise to keep us young!" he began climbing the staircase with what seemed like admirable gusto for a man his age.

The editors and fashion assistants and Clackers all round watched nervously as Miranda mumbled something incoherent and obediently followed Irv into the passage.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" asked Miranda, turning to her assistants with a wicked glare.

Hurriedly, Emily and Andrea followed the mass of Clackers who followed in Miranda's wake, all eager to follow orders and watch Miranda - of all people - climb several flights of stairs.

Amid a resounding click-clack of stilettos, it quickly became clear that no matter how fast anybody ascended the stairs, the most they caught sight of Miranda was her fur coat whipping out of view as she rose another level before them. They were all panting near the top, sweat stains under arms and creases in skirts and hair blown out of proportion from perspiration. When everyone had filed back to their respective offices, Emily picked up her discarded heels and tossed them under her desk, massaging her cranium from what was a resounding headache from the alarm.

"Ahn-dre-ah!"

Tired already from the run to collect Miranda's lunch, Andrea raced from her desk at a moment's notice and - gasp! - caught sight of Miranda bent over double, steadying herself on her desk before she turned and widened her eyes at having been caught in such a vulnerable moment.

"I'll need a Pellegrino," said Miranda, injecting venom into her tone with a vigor she could not muster.

"Y-yes, Miranda," said Andrea uncertainly.

Alone in her office, with Emily manning the phone lines and Andrea long since departed to the kitchens, Miranda massaged her aching back, glimpsed her reflection in the mirror and saw that the "glow" from all the walking had ruined her make up.

"Emily! Ahn-dre-ah!" called Miranda, uncertain of who remained nearby. "I need a scarf, preferably in this calendar year!"


End file.
